


Unrelated Conversations of a Domestic Nature

by dizzy



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-04
Updated: 2017-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-24 20:47:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,684
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4934722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unremarkable conversations that take place in the daily lives of Dan and Phil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Working Out**

"What if I got a personal trainer?" Dan asks. 

He's sprawled out on the couch in a t-shirt and boxers, laptop on his stomach and legs over Phil's lap. Phil's laptop is across his shins, the discomfort of the metal surface offset by how pleasantly warming it is to his skin. 

Phil gives him the saddest sad-Voldemort pout. "Don't." 

"Why not?" 

"Because you'll get really fit and meet someone at the gym who is equally fit and run off to be fit people having fit people sex and I'll just waste away all alone and pining." 

Dan laughs. "Well, lucky for you, my aesthetic remains pale and scrawny." 

"Good." Phil nods to himself and looks back down at his computer. 

"But you wouldn't want a boyfriend with a six pack?" Dan asks after a few beats of comfortable silence. "Some eye candy?" 

Phil gives him a surprised look, like he's actually realizing Dan might be slightly serious. "You're already eye candy." 

He leans over and pokes where Dan's dimples form, knowing Dan can't resist smiling when he does that. He bats Phil's hand away with a laughing, "Stop that!" 

"Seriously, though. The only six pack you need is... a six-pack of Ribena," he declares. 

"That's not even-" Dan rolls his eyes. "But, come on, seriously. The pudge can't be attractive, now can it?" 

"Pudge?" Phil looks genuinely bothered. "Please tell me you don't actually think that." 

Dan's cheeks go a little splodgy pink. 

"Are you gonna make me get all romantical and tell you that I think every bit of you is perfect and you don't need to change?" Phil asks, whining slightly. He puts his laptop aside and moves Dan's out of the way, crawling up the length of him to straddle Dan. "Because I will, if you need it, but I'd have to put pants on to go buy all the rose petals, and my lips will get numb halfway through kissing every inch of your silken skin..." 

Dan laughs, leaning up and kissing Phil. "Nah. I think a blowjob will do." 

Phil gets to his feet with purposeful speed, holding a hand down to help Dan up. "One ego-reaffirming blowjob, coming right up." 

"We have to move?" Dan pouts. 

"Yeah, of course. Gonna need room to work on this one. Couch is only good for quickies." Phil explains with a serious expression, while Dan listens and tries not to laugh. 

"Well, far me it from me to undermine rules of polite blowjob society." Dan shuts his laptop and gets to his feet. 

  


**Separation Anxiety**

"Remember how once in a while we start to worry that we're a little too attached and it's unhealthy for us to never be apart and one of us goes and signs on for a job that the other isn't doing and ends up in a different country feeling painfully alone and awkward?" Dan says all in one breath as soon as Phil answers the phone. 

"Only one of us does that, but since I suspect there's a point you're driving toward, I'll say yes for the sake of speeding it along," Phil says. 

"I miss you." Dan whines. 

"Do you miss me or do you miss the idea of me?" Phil tries for a philosophical angle. 

"Both," Dan admits. "It's nice to have someone to talk to and hang out with, but it's always nicest when it's you." 

"Daniel, that's almost romantic of you." Phil's smiling a little, settled onto the sofa with the phone in his hand. He rests his head on the pillow "House doesn't feel quite right without you." 

"I don't feel quite right without you." 

They indulge in a shared moment of emotional wallowing. 

"Only another day now," Phil says. "Should I meet you at the airport for a dramatic reunion scene?" 

"I'm sure the fifty fangirls with cameras would appreciate it." 

"You exaggerate. Five, tops." 

"But they'll sound like a crowd of fifty." 

"That one I'll allow you." 

The comfortable back and forth is soothing. 

"Maybe a dramatic hallway reunion?" Dan suggests. 

"Probably for the best," Phil agrees. "Easier to cue dramatic music in the hallway. Less stares." 

"No stares, hopefully." 

"Maybe that one nosy neighbor." 

"Maybe her, yeah." Dan sighs. "I should go. This closet smells." 

"Wait, you're in a closet?" 

"I'm in a closet." 

"A literal one?" 

"Yes, you dipwad, a literal one. Where else was I going to go to call you without anyone overhearing?" 

"You're in a literal closet while making a call to your secret boyfriend." 

Dan snorts. "Don't read into it." 

"Sure. Well. Try to make sure no one sees you coming out." 

"I hate you." Dan laughs. "But I love you." 

"I both love and hate you, too." 

  


**Bad Days**

Sometimes conversations don't really need words. Phil wakes up, not too often but at least once or twice a year, with a headache so bad he just cant move. 

At this point, Dan doesn't even have to ask. There are a dozen different subtle signs; Phil sleeping in later, Phil with the blankets over his head to block out the sun once he is awake, Phil even paler than normal or sweating though the weather is temperate. 

Dan knows to speak in a whisper when he does speak, to bring Phil something light to nibble and some coffee, some water and one of his pills, to move the bin closer to Phil's side of the bed in case the pain gets so bad it makes him ill. 

Dan also knows that Phil likes it best when Dan stays with him during the truly bad migraines. He's effortlessly patient with sitting there, not risking a light or even the glow of a laptop screen. He understands that sometimes Phil likes his hair stroked or the back of his neck rubbed, but that sometimes even touch is just too much stimulation. Usually Phil ends up with his head on Dan's lap until the worst of it goes away. 

It usually fades by midday, and Phil's left feeling shaky and off for the rest of the day. He’ll emerge from the bedroom den of darkness and let Dan ease him through the rest of the day. 

  


**Shopping Lists**

"You have to do the shopping with me this time," Phil says. "Or just do it by yourself."

There's that ever so slightly annoyed edge to his voice. It's taken a while for Dan to train himself out of instantly prickling to defensiveness every time he hears it. He is now a mature adult aged twenty four who definitely doesn't balk every time he's faced with someone finding something of annoyance in him or his behavior. (Okay, mostly he doesn't. Sometimes. He's working on it.) 

"Why?" He asks. 

"Because I can't actually keep track of what you are and aren't eating!" Phil shuts the refrigerator door. "Weren't you going vegan like, a week ago?" 

"Maybe," Dan says. 

"And all my milk is gone now." 

"You shouldn't even drink milk anyway." Yeah, it's work in progress. "I ran out of almond milk." 

"I put milk in my coffee! Now I can't have coffee because there's no milk." Phil looks properly cross for all of thirty seconds, which Dan knows is about max capacity for petty annoyances. It almost visibly drains out of him. 

"I'm sorry," Dan says. "I'll do the shopping. In fact, why don't I go right now? I can pick you up a coffee on the way back." 

It's almost embarrassing how Phil looks a little bit surprised every time Dan doesn't rise to the bait of bickering. The smug part of Dan really enjoys surpassing expectation, but the rest of him just likes the little smile that grows on Phil's face. 

  


**Viewing Habits**

"No. We're not watching that." 

Phil sulks over the Buffy box set clasp in his hand. "Well, what would you rather watch?" 

"Steven Universe," Dan says. "You said we could do it next last time." 

"Yeah, but it just doesn't... look..." 

Dan lifts an eyebrow. "Don't judge a cartoon by it's box set art, Philip." 

"But we know we like Buffy!" 

"No, we know that I 'like' Buffy. We know that you're 'hopelessly obsessed and unhealthily infatuated' with Buffy. Besides, you know the rule." 

"One rewatch per every other year." Phil pulls a face as he says it. "I just feel like... not a cartoon." 

"Scifi?" 

"Eh. Just a movie?" 

"No, I'm craving commitment." Dan whines and sighs. "Why is this so hard." 

Phil looks down at the box set regretfully and sets it aside. "We're going to argue about this, aren't we." 

"I think so." Dan looks equally un-enthused. "Or we could just have sex instead." 

Phil appears to be considering it until his expression turns suspicious. "You're just going to wait until I'm about to come and then get me to agree to watching your bloody cartoon, aren't you?" 

Dan grins. "Maybe." 

"... oh, fine."

They end up starting Steven Universe an hour later, in bed. 

  


**The Future**

"Someone on the internet says I have to marry you." Phil absently says it while he scrolls through his twitter feed. 

"What, like, right now?" Dan asks, spoon full of cereal halfway to his mouth. A little bit of milk from his last bite is still dribbled down his chin. "Can I finish my breakfast first?"

"They didn't specify a time." Phil shrugs. "I think it can wait til lunch, at least." 

"Oh, good. I've always wanted a mid-afternoon wedding." Dan finishes his bite and wipes his chin on the back of his hand. "So that's sorted?" 

Phil nods. "Sorted." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Spooning**

"You've domesticated me, you realize that?" Dan says, scratching his bare belly. He's laying on the couch staring up at the ceiling, murky after a nap. It was the dream he had, something about the dream... "I was dreaming about getting you milk." 

"You should follow your dreams, then." Phil's voice has a hint of restrained laughter in it though he's trying not to corpse. "I mean, we are running a bit low."

Phil's across the room in the chair. Dan rolls onto his side and adjusts the pillow under his cheek, content to just look at Phil for a moment. It really is one of his favorite past times. How is it that you can look at one person so much and still find it such a pleasant thing to do? He just loves Phil like this, glasses down his nose and hair a mess he hasn't bothered to do anything with. He's wearing a t-shirt of Dan's and his own underwear and Dan has that squirmy crawling feeling inside. "Come cuddle me," he says, whining a little. 

Phil looks up. "Oh, is that what you're after?' 

"Not after anything." Dan pokes his bottom lip out. "Just want cuddles." 

Phil sighs as if greatly put upon and walks over, kneeling at the end of the couch and pausing there. "Big spoon or little spoon?" 

"You be the big one." Dan smiles and closes his eyes as Phil squishes between him and the back of the sofa, one arm going awkwardly up a little to rest along the back of Dan's neck so fingers can play in his hair while the other arm goes over Dan's middle. 

"This what you wanted?" Phil asks, breath ticklish on Dan's neck. 

Dan nods. "Thank you." 

"Going to go back to sleep now?" 

"Maybe. You?" 

"Mmm." Phil hums on an exhale. "Might do." 

Dan finds Phil's hand and slides their fingers together. "Good." 

  


**Future of Robotics**

"I like your body," Phil says. Post sex and he's breathing heavy and still slightly delirious. 

"Good, because you're stuck with it for the next sixty years or so." 

Phil frowns. "Don't talk like that. It's a mood killer." 

"What, being locked to one ball and chain the rest of your life?" Dan grins, reaching out to play with the patchy little hair on Phil's chest. 

"No, like we've only got sixty more years together. The medical industry is making great advances, who knows how long we'll live but I'd like to put in for at least another hundred." 

"The robotics industry makes great advances, too. Maybe we won't die, we'll just become Cybermen."

Phil considers it with a nod. "It'll be a show down between medicine and robotics, then? Well, whichever." 

"So you'll love me even if I'm eighty with a robotic hips?" 

"Absolutely." 

"And robotic arms?" 

"Why not? Have them install gadgets," Phil suggests. "Can opener. Screwdriver. You'll be handy 'round the house." 

"What about a robotic cock? Or bum hole?" 

"... depends, what corresponding robotic parts do I have? I don't really fancy putting my dick in anything mechanical unless it's also made of something meant to stand up to that kind of pressure." 

"So we'll just have to hope that the robotics industry is up to manufacturing parts based on preference and not just medical necessity by then," Dan decides. 

"And that we're rich enough to afford them." 

"And then we'll live forever having robot sex." Dan grins. "The future is going to be great." 

  


**Petty Jealousy**

"He was hitting on you." Dan scowls down at his plate. 

"So?" Phil is fighting with stringy melted cheese on his slide of pizza, the way it won't disconnect from the bite in his mouth to the rest. He manages to get it and the cheese sticks to his chin until he nudges it into his mouth. He wipes almost delicately then finishes talking. "People hit on you all the time." 

"No they don't." He stabs at his salad. He's not really hungry. 

He's also lying. People do hit on him. He just reacts with such a strong sense of awkwardness and dread that they never push it further than that. It's a useful trait to be able to emphasize as needed. 

Phil, though. Phil is - smooth. Phil smiles and laughs in all the right places, gently letting someone down in a way that sometimes doesn't really do the job. They walk away understanding the rejection but thinking maybe there's still a shot. 

And Dan fucking hates it. 

"It's not like I'm interested," Phil says. "And you know why." 

"He doesn't." Dan glares in the direction. 

"And you know why." Phil's face is that carefully shuttered blankness, but it doesn't change how efficiently that shuts Dan up. 

But for the rest of the night Phil stays extra close to him, and in the taxi on the way home Phil rests his jacket between them so they can hold hands under it, and once they’re home he thoroughly affirms to Dan exactly who it is he’s happy to go home with every night. 

  


**Hobbies**

They're one of those couples. They do presents. 

They do birthdays and Christmas. They even do Valentine's Day, because fuck if the internet is going to ruin that for them. 

And sometimes, they do them for fuck all reason. Sometimes it's the sort of mutually beneficial thing, like a new box set or a piece of editing equipment, but they order it under the other's name just so it's a fun surprise. Sometimes it's strictly selfless, like a new item of clothing or a special treat in the shopping that the other doesn't like. 

(But not cheese. Love has limits.) 

Dan comes back from a lunch out with a friend and walks into the bedroom. 

He immediately walks back out, huge grin on his face. "Is that for me?" 

Phil looks up, not trying to hide his smile. "Maybe." 

Dan disappears into the bedroom again. 

A few seconds later, an awful screeching noise comes out of the bedroom. When Dan emerges again, he's holding the blue violin Phil found on ebay and ordered. 

"You are fucking insane." Dan's been talking about wanting to pick up another instrument for a while. "And cheesy as fuck, d'you know that?" 

"Well, I figured if our pixelated offspring could pick it up, must not be that hard." He won't argue; it's definitely the cheesiest thing he's done in a while. 

"I'm gonna go find some tutorials on youtube," Dan announces. Because, of course, the internet can teach you everything. Even how to play the violin. 

The screeching noise starts up again, but Phil doesn't even mind the noise so much - since he had the forethought to also order to ear plugs for himself. 

  


**Nonverbal Communication**

They know from the start that this is going somewhere. 

It's heavy between them, deep and sticky and tinged with an almost sickening adrenaline rush. It's that feeling when you sit down on a roller coaster and you realize as the bar clicks that it's too late to get off and you're seeing the ride through to the end. It starts off slow and almost pleasant but as you climb the first big hill you're suddenly terrified of the drop - until it's over and you're still in one piece and slowly you begin to breathe. You embrace it, you enjoy it - you love it. 

They've climbed to the top and plummeted down once before and now they know that what doesn't break them makes them better. They're settled in and accepting that this is maybe just how it's meant to be. 

It’s _not_ a remarkable conversation, because it’s one of the things they never really have to talk about at all.   



	3. Chapter 3

**Motivation**

"Remember that time we were going to film a video?" Dan asks. 

He's poking his big toe at the pair of Phil's pants that never made it off the bed. Phil is scratching his own stomach lazily. 

"Uh," Phil says. 

They're professionals. Yeah. 

"Should we...?" Dan looks toward the doorway. 

"They'll be disappointed if they don't." 

'They' - the omnipresent audience, their constant companions through life. Their blessing and financial security, their conscience and potential downfall, their biggest annoyance and biggest joy. 

That's what Dan would say, at least, if he weren't sleepy and come drunk. But since he is, what comes out of his mouth is a cheerful, "Fuck 'em," as he rolls over and pins Phil to the bed.

  


**Spoilers**

“It’s supposed to be really good,” Dan says. “It’s about a hacker. On drugs.” 

“I just don’t feel like starting a new show like that.” Phil focuses wide eyes at Dan, using his powers of emotional manipulation. “Can’t we just watch a movie?”  

Luckily for Dan, he’s had time to grow immune. “No! You know how the internet works! I’ve decided I want to watch it, I’m already on borrowed time. If I wait too long, I will literally know every single thing that happens.” 

Phil huffs and sulks and pouts and twenty minutes later Dan’s queuing up the first episode. 

By the end of the first episode, Phil’s actually leaning forward on his seat, attention fully on the story unfolding onscreen. 

“He’s definitely gonna. Right? Isn’t he?” He looks over at Dan to see what Dan thinks. 

Dan’s asleep. 

Phil’s annoyed but Dan’s also so cute with his mouth hanging open just a little and the process of waking Dan up would interrupt the flow of the show. 

Dan wakes up long past the point where the credits are done and the screen is black. The whole room is dark, in fact, and Phil is nowhere to be seen. 

As he sits up a post-it note formerly stuck to his forehead flutters down to his lap. Dan squints at it, using his phone to read it. 

_He pins it on Colby._

It takes Dan a second to realize. He drops the note instantly, but when he looks up there are three more stuck to his Macbook. He squeezes his eyes shut to avoid seeing them. “Phil!”    


He can hear Phil’s laugh down the hall. 

The trip there is torture - there are post it notes all along the wall, and one on each doorway. “Phil! How many episodes did you watch?” 

Phil can’t stop laughing. “Four. And you’d better catch up fast, because I hid spoilers everywhere. And you said I'd never use all those post it notes...” 

  


**Viewing Habits (2.0)**

Phil walks back in from the shop with a bag that contains five more items than he actually intended on buying. That's not really a surprise at all, but it is strange how Dan doesn't come to hound him about all the extra items then steal the most delicious of them.  


In fact, Dan doesn't come out at all, leaving Phil to wonder immediately if something happened to him, like that dream Phil had where a pigeon got into the flat and pecked Dan to death then stole their toothbrushes. 

"Dan?" He calls out, checking the lounge first. "Pigeon? Someone?" 

"If that's a new pet name, then I'm gonna have to vote no," Dan says, voice floating out of the bedroom. 

"No, I was just addressing my potential new flatmate." Phil nudges his shoes off near the doorway, losing one song along with them. He uses his heel to step on the toes of the remaining sock and tugs it off as he walks. "Have you been there since I left? That was over an hour ago." 

"Shit, it's been an hour?" Dan checks the time. "And, by the way, that's fucking ridiculous that it took you an hour to walk to the store five minutes away. What all did you bring back?" 

"You'll have to check and see later," Phil says, crawling onto the bed beside Dan. "What are you looking at oh my god that's a penis and that's not a shape a penis is supposed to be in." 

Dan snorts at the way Phil has slapped a hand over his eyes. "Welcome to today's youtube vortex." 

"I thought today's youtube vortex was earlier with the pengiuns?" 

"Youtube vortex 2.0, then." 

"And this would be..." Phil widens the gap between two of his fingers to peek. "Tucking?" 

"Yeah, so, you know Willam, right?" 

"I've seen his videos, yeah," Phil says. 

"So I was looking at this new song he did - fucking hilarious, by the way - and then I started watching stuff on drag queens, and then I did some makeup tutorials, and then I started wondering, you know, where it goes, and-" 

"Tucking." Phil winces again. "It just looks painful." 

"Apparently it's not." 

"I don't think I believe that." 

"Uncomfortable, and a little dangerous just from a biological perspective if you ever want to have kids, because the place they go is actually there to help regulate the temperature and keep them warm if it's cold, so if you keep them inside your body when it's too hot it starts to-" 

"Dan. How many videos did you watch in an hour?" 

"... just a..." Dan hits the history tab on his browser. "Few. Dozen." 

Phil leans over and kisses the side of Dan's head. "You're weird. I'll leave you to that, then." 

Dan grabs his arm. "Watch with meeeeee." 

"I need to start dinner!" Phil laughs. 

"Just a few?" Dan pouts. "Come on, you know you want to." 

"Fine, fine." Phil wants to shake his head again, but the truth is that he's a sucker for that raw enthusiasm on Dan's face. "No tucking, though. But maybe one of the makeup ones." 

Dan beams at him and starts to type in the search bar. 

  


**Parental Advice**

Phil wakes up feeling not quite right. His stomach is unsettled and his head hurts and his skin feels clammy, like something's trying to crawl out of it. By midday everything Dan does is getting ever so slightly on his nerves and it's a struggle not to snap.  


He loses the struggle the fourth time he asks Dan to stop humming at such a high pitch. There's a moment after the words leave his mouth when he realizes how harsh his tone was, and he braces for Dan to snap back defensively.

But all that happens is Dan stops humming and when Phil looks up Dan's watching him with a careful, concerned look. And it's one of those moments when Phil realizes how much Dan's grown up in the last couple of years, because two years ago this would have been a fight because two years ago Dan hadn't quite so keenly developed the skill to look beyond himself in a situation like this. 

He decides to test it a bit. 

"I'm going to my room for a bit," Phil says, only because leaving without saying anything sounds rude and even when he's having a shit day he can't bring himself to quite be that. 

"Okay. Let me know if you need anything." Dan gives him a smile. 

Phil turns the lights off and trades his trousers for pajama pants and lays down on his bed. Just closing his eyes feels like relief. The absence of noise is wonderful. Even the city itself outside seems to have decided to quiet down just for a little bit. 

He naps off and on and then he calls his mum, because she always makes him feel better. She lets him whine about feeling ill and then asks him if Dan's taking care of him. The answer is not no, but it's not quite a yes, either. "Maybe if I let him," Phil admits. 

She thoroughly admonishes him for that one. "No point in having one so sweet as that if you won't make use of him." 

When he hangs up the phone with her he sighs and stares at the ceiling and picks up his phone. _Make me a cup of tea_ , he texts Dan. 

The response is just a smiling emoticon, and five minutes later Dan creeps through the door with a steaming mug. "Doing all right?" 

Phil shakes his head, and then pats the place on the bed beside him. Dan's eyes brighten a little at the invitation. He puts the tea down on the nightstand and then settles in with his back to Phil's headboard, smiling when Phil curls himself up around Dan. "Feel like shit," Phil admits. 

Dan starts to stroke his hair. "I figured." 

The fingers feel nice petting against his skull and his eyes grow heavy again. "Love you," he whispers, because suddenly some kind of emotion is choking him and he feels bad but Dan's so nice and his mother's always right. 

  


**Nostalgia**

"Remember," Dan says, "Back in the beginning?"  


They're drunk, that lazy kind of drunk, because they're at home and twisted up together on the sofa and life is good. 

"I remember," Phil says. It's got nothing to do with what Dan was going to say but he adds, "You made me feel so..." 

"So?" 

"Old." 

Dan laughs. "I can still make you feel old." 

"No, just, in the good way. You looked at me like you thought I had the answers." Phil stares up. “And I didn’t, really, but I think I figured a few things out about what I wanted to do with my life just to keep you from being disappointed in me. I wanted to be who you thought I was.” 

That's probably too deep for Dan's wine drizzled mine to really wrap around, but he gives it a shot. "I just trusted you. I wasn’t expecting you to be anything.”

"You trusted me. Too much, sometimes." Phil's fingers trail down Dan's arm. "When we have a teenager, there's no bloody way I'm letting them go meet some strange man off the internet. Why are you smiling?" 

"When we have a teenager." Dan grins more and rolls on top of Phil. They hover near the edge of the sofa until they manage to cooperatively scoot their combined body weight over. "We're gonna. One day." 

Phil grins back at him, making for a weird too-toothy kiss. "That's the plan.”  


	4. Chapter 4

**Boredom**

"I miss boredom," Dan says to the Skype box shoved in the corner of his screen. This set up worked so well for writing the book that they've taken to Skyping from different rooms any time they need to brainstorm without the distraction of being side by side. "Do you remember what it felt like to be bored?"

Phil sighs wistfully. "I think I was bored once, for about a week in 2011." 

"We're too busy." Dan doesn't mean it. Phil knows he doesn't mean it. "We should be less busy." 

"Should we?" Phil asks. "I think it's dangerous to be too bored. You end up doing stupid things." 

"Yesterday you asked me if I thought it would be a good idea to put coffee in your vegetable smoothie to make you have even more energy," Dan says. "That was a stupid thing." 

"Not like that," Phil says. "And it was a good idea, in theory. It just needs tweaking." 

"There's a reason coffee-spinach smoothies aren't a thing, Phil." 

"No, I mean-" Phil struggles with his words for a moment. "We work well under pressure, together." 

"But won't it be nice one day when we have less pressure?" Dan asks. "With work, I mean. Not so many projects just constantly going?" 

"Only when we have other things to fill the gaps," Phil finally says. 

"Oh." Dan's smiling, Phil can see it across the screen. He has his head dipped low and he's smiling that smile he gets when he gets embarrassed about how much he likes something or he's caught off guard. 

It's a smile Phil would cross rivers and climb mountains for. "But maybe," Phil says. "We can try out boredom for a while in between this and that." 

"Yeah," Dan says, but he's still distracted by the other stuff. 

It's okay, Phil doesn't mind. It's worthy of a daydream moment or two. "You know, I wonder if that smoothie would be better if I add some ice cream..." 

"Phil!" 

 

**Laundry**

"Phil? Let's play a game." 

Phil's head pops up from behind the book he's been reading. "If it's Fall out 4 again, you have to promise not to laugh. It distracts me." 

"Trust me when I say the distraction can't do anything but help your game," Dan says. "But, no. This is a different game. A new game. It's called Find Phil's Socks." 

Phil's face creeps back down to book level. "No, thank you." 

"Phil!" The word explodes from Dan's mouth in a prissy huff. "They're your socks, you don't get a choice. Come on. I want to do the wash and you have three socks! Three socks in the basket and I know you've worn socks at least five times this week! Where are the twelve missing socks, Phil? Where will I find them?"

"Try looking behind the-" 

"Phil!" Dan's voice hits a level that is probably disturbing any neighborhood cats. "That was not an actual question!" 

Phil sighs and gives his book a longing glance. "Can I finish this chapter?" 

"No." Dan reaches out and snatches the book from Phil's hand, though he is polite enough to at least mark Phil's page - with a lonely sock he spots just under the coffee table. 

 

**Absence**

Missing Phil is a feeling that sort of just crawls up in Dan's throat and burrows there, not so much that he can't breathe but just so that once in a while when he his mind spins the wrong way it chokes him out of nowhere. 

Phil would think he's being melodramatic about it. Phil doesn't understand it, really, because Phil doesn't feel things the same way Dan does. That's not to say Phil doesn't feel as deeply, or love as much. It's just - different, for him. When they're apart and Phil misses Dan he's able to tell himself that it'll be fine because in a few more days they'll be back together again.

Dan can tell himself that, but his brain just hisses back that it won't be nearly that easy. His brain shuffles and doubles back on his thoughts and won't quite let him be at ease with it. Missing Phil feels urgent, like an open wound. He thinks he's good at hiding it, until Phil calls and unwinds the bandages in the span of just a few words. 

"You're not doing so well this time, are you, bear?" An old nickname, a soothing tone. Dan doesn't have the energy to feel patronizing. 

"Just." He starts, then stops. "I guess not." 

"Why don't I come home early?" Phil asks, but he probably doesn't really want to. That's what Dan thinks, at least. 

So he says, "No, it's fine." 

"I'll come home early." It's a statement not a question this time. 

Dan doesn't try and talk him out of it. A year or two ago, he might have, but this is part of the learning process for both of them. Phil accepts that he may not always understand why Dan is feeling a certain way and tries to help regardless; Dan tries to curb his penchant for self-fulfilling prophecies by allowing Phil to do that. 

"Okay," he says. 

The conversation's mostly over, but they stay on the line together for a few more minutes anyway. 

 

**Little White Lies**

"What are you doing, Dan?" Phil walks into the room. 

Dan slams his laptop down. "Nothing." 

"That's awfully suspicious for nothing." Phil looks curious. "Is it porn?" 

"No..." 

"You're in your bed, actually under the blanket, and your hand was under there when I opened the door." 

"I was just... cold." 

"The heat's on." 

"There was still a draft." He resists the urge to check and make sure he's not actually tenting the blanket or anything. "Get your mind out of the gutter, please." 

"Something very kinky?" Phil lifts an eyebrow. "Something shocking? Something new you're into?" 

"Phil!" Dan whines. It was porn, of course it was porn. "It wasn't porn." 

"I won't judge, just tell me." Phil grins. "Or should I guess? Hmm... fetishization of the urban chipmunk?"

"I hate you." 

"You know I don't care if you're watching porn." 

"I wasn't... watching porn..." Dan's voice trails off with a sigh. "I was watching porn." 

Phil's mouth quirks upward in that coy little grin he reserves just for specific moments where he's feeling mischievous or flirty. "So can I invite myself in, or is this one of those times where you just want to-" 

"Please don't," Dan says, immediately afraid of what euphemism is about to come out of Phil's mouth. His lack of generic crudeness is offset by an extremely colorful range of options to express naughty sentiments.

"-stroke the dolphin in peace?" Phil finishes. Dan's groan clearly delights him. "Or perhaps you'd rather wiggle the razorback-"

Dan flings the blanket back. "Oh my god, Phil, I will actually watch porn with you just to shut you up." 

Phil gets to work taking his pants off, accepting victory with no shame. 

 

**Gift Giving**

Phil's the one that's good at remembering anniversaries and getting thoughtful presents and knowing just the best way to celebrate an occasion or milestone. 

Phil will always say it's wonderful, staring down with genuinely delighted smile at whatever random bit of quirky shit Dan's ordered from Firebox. He's always happy but never surprised Dan's never quite managed to evoke that same shocked, touched expression that he remembers from the first time he sent Phil that huge box of birthday presents.

Back then Phil was just amazed that someone wanted to spoil him like that. It was easy, that first time. 

Dan tries, but he starts out with plans that are too grand and he procrastinates making arrangements or ordering things, and when things fall apart he's never got backup ideas lined up so he ends up looking like he's scrounged around last minute for some bullshit gift when really he wanted it to be so nice, so special. 

This will be the year, Dan swears to himself. He'll surprised Phil with a trip somewhere for Valentine's Day, just the two of them. He'll buy Phil a shirt that is perfectly Phil but way more expensive than Phil would buy himself. He'll make Phil breakfast in bed on his birthday and actually managed to wake up before Phil to pull off the surprise. He'll surprise Phil with his family in town for a weekend, or maybe just buy tickets for the two of them to go see Phil's family instead. There's nothing Phil loves more than all his favorite people in one place, Dan with his family fitting in just right. 

But for now, he'll start with the actual occasion: Phil's birthday.

"It's wonderful." 

"Phil." Dan sinks back into his sofa crease. "You don't have to lie." 

"I'm not lying." Phil's voice is soft and when he looks up at Dan, Dan can tell in an instant that it's the truth. "I love it. A lot." 

"It's not even... It was so cheap." Dan's not sure why he's compelled to make excuses. "And it doesn't really fit our aesthetic with the decor." 

"Shut up, Dan." Phil's fingers are still clutched around the frame. "It would look good in your bedroom." 

They've never gotten around to really hanging anything up in there. It's Dan's bedroom, they call it Dan's bedroom, but it's the room where they both sleep at night. 

Phil stands up. "Let's go hang it now." 

"Phil." Dan laughs. "We can wait." 

"No, let's do it now. Go get the... picture hanging stuff." 

It's not surprising that Phil doesn't even know the terminology, considering Dan has actually never let him even try to hang anything in their apartment. Phil's depth perception is dangerous enough without involving hammers and sharp-tipped nails. 

A framed photo of the Manchester wheel ends up placed just out of camera view.


	5. Chapter 5

**Coffee**

"You look sexy when you're working," Dan says. 

Phil's head jerks up, and Dan feels a little beat of satisfaction at having caught him off guard. 

He does, though. There are moments when Dan gets to look at Phil when Phil isn't paying attention and he's never more attracted to Phil than those times, when he's wearing glasses and his head is tilted down and he's focusing in hard on whatever he's doing it. 

Phil recovers fast. "You look sexy when you're making me a coffee." 

"See, mine was a genuine compliment," Dan says, spinning around in his chair and standing with a sigh. "And yours is just shameless manipulation." 

"Love you," Phil sings out. 

  


**Laziness**

"I don't want to get out of bed today," Dan says, groaning from the depths of his soul. 

Phil looks him over. "Normal lazy or Bad Day lazy?" 

Dan actually takes a moment to take stock of himself before he says, "Normal lazy." 

Phil punches him in the side. "Get out of bed." 

Dan yelps. "Stop, that's abuse." 

Phil pinches this time. "You've got to be on the train the next twenty minutes or you'll be late, and you're not even dressed. Out, go, be gone." 

"Can you just go instead of me?" Dan whines. "Put on the Dan mask. You know what's in my head better than me most of the time anyway." 

"That," Phil says, "Is an absolute lie." 

(But he sounds pleased anyway.) 

"Seriously, my therapist will never know the difference. Just name at least a couple things you do that might annoy me and she'll be sold." 

"I can't do that," Phil says. "That would be lying, and lying is wrong." 

"You won't pretend to be me?" 

"I won't pretend that anything I do is annoying," Phil says. "I'm not that good at acting, anyway. I'm never annoying, she'd see right through the lies."

Dan makes an incredulous noise. "You are a being composed of sixty percent water and thirty five percent annoying habits." 

"What's the other five percent?" 

"Sugar." Dan says, reaching out and poking the side of Phil's cheek with a fingertip. "Don't think I can't literally smell how much sugar you had in your morning coffee." 

"Cannot," Phil says, batting Dan's hand away. "Also, stop distracting me from my mission to make you get up. You've only got fifteen minutes now!" 

"I hate you," Dan says pointedly, and pushes back the duvet. 

  


**Viewing Habits (3.0)**

"Is this what our life has come down to?" Dan asks. "Watching crap horror movies at seven pm so we can be in bed at a decent time?" 

"Your life is watching crap horror movies at seven pm," Phil says. "Mine is watching crap horror movies and being a human pillow at seven pm."

"Shut up, human pillow. I didn't say you could speak." Dan goes to poke Phil's side, and he does, but then his hand just sort of flops there and stays. "This movie is really shit, though-oh-fuck-shit-what-no-"

His sentence devolves into a shriek and pummels Phil's chest, fueled by adrenaline from a jumpscare. 

Phil doesn't seem particularly jump scared, but maybe that's because he's laughing too hard. "How did you not see that coming!" 

"I was distracted!" Dan shoves at Phil until Phil is almost half off the sofa. "Stop distracting me!" 

"I wasn't distracting you, you were complaining about the movie," Phil says. "In fact, I missed a key bit of dialogue there, I should back it up-" 

"You will fucking not," Dan says, snatching the remote and tossing it to the end of the sofa. 

"You realize now you can't pause or mute it when something scary's about to happen," Phil points out. 

Dan stretches a leg and nudges the remote with his toes. "I can monkey grab it if I need to." 

"Your monkey toes disgust me," Phil says. 

"I'll wake you up one day with a footjob and you'll change your tune," Dan promises. 

"I will actually leave you," Phil says in a matter-of-fact voice. "I have a bag packed already for just the occasion. Only necessities." 

"Spare box of microwave popcorn, extra phone charger, clean underwear, and five tubs of Haribo?" Dan guesses. 

"Exactly," Phil says. "Necessities." 

"Where would you even run away to?" Dan yawns and gets comfortable again. 

"My mum, of course," Phil says. 

"That's like the reverse of what every angsty pre-teen imagines," Dan says. "Running away to home. Can't relate." 

"You can run away to my mum too," Phil offers. "If you ever need to." 

Dan smiles. "Yeah. Thanks." 

"Now," Phil says. "We just talked through that entire scene. Please monkey grab the remote, because I'm definitely backing it up." 

Dan extends his toes... and kicks the remote off the sofa.

  


**The Fantastic Demise of Winstubble and Sustubble**

"You're hogging the blanket," Phil says, tugging half of it back. 

Dan oinks and closes his fingers around it. "The blanket stays. But you can come in closer." 

Phil tweaks his nose and scoots in, holding up an arm for Dan to curl up under. "This is what you want all along, isn't it?" 

"I'm devious," Dan says, sighing happily and rubbing his cheek back and forth against Phil's chest. 

"Ouch," Phil says, poking Dan in the side. "Your three stubbles are irritating my skin." 

"Excuse," Dan says. "I've got seven now. I'm going to name them tomorrow. It's written into my schedule." 

"Name one-" 

"Not Susan." 

"No, name it-" 

"Not Winston." 

"Okay, but-" 

"Not Simon, either, I don't care if you pull that 'it's an homage' thing." 

"Fine." Phil pouts. "Make do with your inferior names." 

"Gonna name one Lester," Dan says. "And then pluck it out." 

"That sounds really painful," Phil says. "Do you imagine anyone plucks their beard hairs?" 

"As like, a way of getting a smooth face? Or some kind of pain kink?" 

"Either," Phil says. "Maybe there's someone who enjoys a smooth face and also has a pain kink?" 

"It's you, isn't it." Dan props himself up to look at Phil. "You can tell me. I won't judge." 

Phil sticks his tongue out. "No, I'm perfectly happy decapitating my beard hairs in a way that's painless for me." 

"Rip stubbles." Dan kisses Phil's cheek, rubbing his lips over the faint bristle. "You're sexy, but Phil won't let us have any fun." 

"I'll grow it out over Christmas holiday," Phil says. "It'll be your present." 

"Dear Santa, give my boyfriend a smokin' hot beard?" Dan settles back down, satisfied. "I can live with that." 

  


**Yoga**

"Reverse warrior. First one to fall... has to do the washing up," Dan says. 

Phil nods, staring with his concentrating face, which also looks a little bit like a toddler doing his business. Dan will save that observation for when it's useful to distract Phil, though. Manipulation techniques are the heart of this game. 

He's focusing so hard on when he'll tell Phil about his poop face that he doesn't notice his foot twitching impatiently. He isn't actually about to fall but his body gets the weird sensation that he is, so he side steps and then groans at his failure. 

"I won again!" Phil says. "So you have to clean the toilets, do the washing up, and make me popcorn later."

"Oh my fucking Christ on a crapsticks," Dan groans. "I fucking hate this game." 

"Don't care!" Phil pumps both fists in the air. "I win!" 

"How is this actually the thing you're better at than me." Dan grumbles. "One more? All or nothing?" 

"Half or nothing," Phil counters.

"What the fuck is half or nothing?" Dan asks. 

"If you beat me, we split the chores." Phil wiggles his arms out to chase away the stiffness in them. "What's next? Dancer?" 

Dan makes a face. "Is it really? I hate that one." 

"You just have to center yourself." Phil presses his hands together in front of him and hums, his best and potentially most culturally offensive impression of a zen monk. "That's your problem, you know. You're just so full of energy, you're always moving, and I win." 

It is true, in a way; Phil's very capable of stillness, especially when he goes to those weird technicolor dreamlands in his own imagination. Dan's too distracted by the realities of everything around him, too hyper focused in a dozen different directions. 

But he likes a challenge, so he rubs his hands together, reaches behind him to grab his ankle, and then looks at Phil and says, "You know, when you're concentrating you look like you're about to poop."


End file.
